An Heir
by sifofwar
Summary: After a very drunken night, Sif finds herself with child. Loki's child.
1. Chapter 1

Sobs wracked through her entire system, her face sore from crying as she marched down the hallway toward's Loki's chambers. No one dared stop her; In fact, after first glance, guards were jumping out of her way and avoiding eye contact at all.

Sif liked to pride herself on keeping unnecessary emotions to herself, to make sure she held a professional demeanor in front of her comrades. But now? All bets were off.

Pausing in her steps, she held out an arm to wall for support while bending over at the waist. She had worked herself into such a frenzy she was becoming nauseous - something that did not happen naturally to Asgardians.

Except pregnant ones.

Eir, the healer, had just given her the news, but before she could comment more, Sif had ran out in a hurried frenzy. Poor dear hadn't even had time to process it - but many of Sif's most important decisions were made on the fly, given her occupation. But Eir hadn't even had the chance to tell her the most important bit yet; just that Sif was bearing a son. The words repeated over and over in her head, like a death sentence - which to her? It was.

Finally, she stumbled upon Loki's door. Slamming her fist on it relentlessly, tears still flowed freely from Sif's hazel eyes. "Loki! I know you are in there," she took a hitched breath, "and if you do not let me in right this instant," she practically growled through gritted teeth, "This door will torn from it's hinges, and your body will be next." At that, Loki opened the door. He wore a cool demeanor, not showing the fear that had struck him with Sif's death threat. She didn't tend to make empty threats. He wore a simple dark green pants and tan tunic, clearly something he had just thrown on.

As soon as the door was open, Sif took the opportunity to barge in and slam the door behind her. Lunging at Loki, she slammed his body against the wall, hands gripped around his neck. "You...got...me...pregnant," she seethed at the Prince between ragged breaths. "Do you have any idea what this means? Any? Everything I have wo-"

A hand clamped over Sif's mouth, and she paused in surprise, giving Loki the chance to push her off him. Eyes wide, he gazed at Sif while rubbing his sore neck, which he was sure would be bruised tomorrow.

Sif found a seat, and buried her face in hands and sobbed, but Loki paid no mind to that. Hands clasped behind his back, he paced, his dark eyebrows furrowed and thin lips pressed together. His green eyes held a dark spark.

Whirling around, he tilted his head inquisitively, "Do you know the gender?" Sif brought her head up and curled a lip. "You - Nay, I am having a son."

Excitedly, Loki gave a hearty laugh, and Sif nearly pounced on him before a flash of green light from the Prince's outstretched hand threw her back into the large chair. Anger brewed in Sif's stomach as she surveyed the father of her unborn child. The sight left an unpleasant taste in her mouth.

"This is wonderful," Loki whispered, half to himself. Turning gaily to Sif, a wide grin on his face, he asked, "Do you wish to know why?" Sif narrowed her eyes in response, then came upon the realization he was mocking her.

In defiance, Sif finally gained control over her body and emotions, and stared coolly back at Loki. "No, Odinson," she clearly enunciated every syllable, "I do not know why. Please enlighten me, as I have a feeling you're about to."

Lips pressed together in a thin smile, and he sat on the edge of his bed, opposite Sif. Meeting her stony gaze, he leaned forward. "Sif, you are no witch, correct?"

"No." Sif stated dryly.

"Frost giant?"

"No."

"Elf?"

"For Ymir's sake Loki, out with it!" Sif nearly shouted much to Loki's satisfaction. Raising his eyebrows, he pointed at Sif. "You, Sif, are Aesir. And extremely healthy at that - you will have no problem carrying and delivering my child. No doubt the child will be healthy, half-Aesir...suitable for the throne."

Realization hit Sif and she gasped. "No. My child is not just a pawn for your never-ending fight for the throne! Thor...ye gods, Thor." Sif moaned into her hand. What would he say? Tears welled in her eyes as she imagined the prospect of never even having a chance with the man she loved again. Loki knew what was running through Sif's mind, and he grinned with satisfaction. Thor's woman was his now.

Hatred spread across her tan features, and she whipped her head up, raven hair flinging wildly around her. "You did this on purpose! Seduced me, bedded me, you ever gave a shit about me. You just wanted a suitable carrier so that you may bear no more monsters!" Loki's face became dark as Sif stood up and walked towards him, fists clenched. "You know what? You will never know your son, Loki. If I am to go through with this, you can be assured it will not all be in vain for your mad fight for power."

At that, Loki stood up, face almost level with hers, if not slightly above. "Sif - you would not dare keep me from my son. After Odin finds out I have a suitable heir, he will have no choice but to crown me, as Thor has no children yet." Sif nearly snarled, but Loki took a step forward, clasping his hands behind him. "You and I would wed. You would be Queen." Sif spat, "I do not want-"

"- to be my Queen," Loki finished with a single finger raised. "I suspect as much. What makes you think that I would desire such a brash, butch excuse of a woman as my bride? I don't. But alas, you are with child, and it would be the," he paused slightly, tongue running over his pale lips, "honorable thing to do, given what will happen to you if you don't accept my offer." He nonchalantly sauntered over to his dresser and poured himself a small amount of liquor, waiting for Sif's reply.

Glaring at him, she set her jaw and bid herself not to cry. She was better than this, she would not succumb to Loki's manipulations. "And what if I don't accept?" Sif began. "What if I choose to leave, and never return to Asgard? I could seek haven in Vanaheim, and have my son there."

"And leave your Realm behind? Step down from your position as warrior?" He took a sip before turning again to face the warrior, "Leave Thor?" At Sif's silence, he chuckled darkly.

"That's what I thought. With me, you could be Queen, something you could never hope to accomplish with my brother."

A sullen face turned to stare at the ground.

"You think you had a chance with him before this?" Loki asked incredulously. Again, silence was his reply. "He never saw you as more than a warrior. If he ever did, it was as another whore willing to op-"

Sif landed a square punch to Loki's jaw, "I am not another whore," she began lowly, "I have honour and rank. I am a warrior, one of Asgard's best-"

"-for maybe another two months before your ailment forbids you to. And if you are so honourable," he shrugged, with a light smile, and nodded to Sif's womb, "then how did this happen?"

Angrily, Sif stepped closer. "What happened? You took advantage of my drunken state. You know my bad habit, and you just waited for the opportunity to impregnate me and took it."

Loki laughed mockingly, "Impregnate you? You really believe this was all a one-sided ordeal?" He leaned forward, his face so close to hers he could feel her hot breath, "From the way you mewled and writhed underneath me, I daresay you were just as eager as I, if not more-so."

Sif felt her cheeks grow hot, and knew she was telling him exactly what he wanted to hear. A wide mischievous grin spread on his face, the sparkle reaching his eyes. Leaning forward, their bodies nearly touching, he whispered in her ear, "Stay with me, wed me, and you could have that every night." Desire spread through Sif's body and she trembled. Gritting her teeth together, she bid herself to think rationally about the situation, but was quickly losing focus as Loki placed a long white hand on Sif's waist. She was not wearing her armour this day, instead opting for a maroon tunic and leggings, which displayed her athletic figure quite well. Pursing his lips, Loki softly pressed kisses to Sif's neck over and over, placing a hand on her lower back and pulling her body forward against his. Only able to stand it for a few moments, Sif gripped Loki's face and mashed her lips again his with a fervent passion, much to Loki's satisfaction.

He knew he drove Sif crazy, and used that to his full advantage.

Whipping her around, he dragged her to his bed and threw her down on her back. Unsmiling, Sif pulled him down to her between her legs, practically begging for the satisfaction that she knew was about to come. Loki more than happily obliged with equal anticipation.

The two laid beneath Loki's covers, in a thin layer of sweat. Sif lay on Loki's chest, with his long arm stretched around her waist and palm over her womb. She knew with this action, she had accepted his offer. Tears swelled in her eyes, but she bid them back. This child was to be heir to the throne - she knew that this was best. Loki would never let harm come to him, his only offspring that didn't bring shame to his name.

Sif didn't love Loki, and probably never would. But she did love her son, enough to give up the life she had worked so hard for in order to protect him. He would be raised properly, in the palace, with a real education and the chance to rule Asgard, and he would have a much better life than any he could on Vanaheim. She knew Loki was doing all this to convince her to stay, so he may rule, and eventually her son. She didn't care. Loki would make a good father.

Sif covered Loki's hand on her stomach with her own, sighing as she did so.

* * *

((This was inspired by the Eddas, in which Loki brags of having seduced Sif, and Sif has a son, Ullr, whose father is never named. I'm new to writing, so I would greatly appreciate any comments and criticism!))


	2. in the cold cold night

_Thor._

The God of Thunder stood before her in the doorway to Loki's chambers. Sif could feel his scrutinous gaze travelling across her body, and her cheeks heated. The haphazardly plaited hair, sunken eyes, silken robe loosely tied around her waist- he was clearly interrupting something.

While his initial expression was one of shock, his handsome features were now somber and unreadable. "I'm sorry, I will- I'll come back later," Thor muttered, his wavering voice giving way to the embarrassment he clearly felt. Giving a quick nod to a very smug Loki still in bed, the god quickly turned and headed down the corridor.

Sif stared wordlessly, a hand on the door frame and a thousand confessions on her lips. Squeezing her eyes shut, she choked down a sob. What had she done? Sif wanted to scream back at him, tell him everything-

_Please help me, I've messed up. Messed up everything-_

"I usually like a strong black tea in the mornings."

At the interruption, the goddess stilled, narrowing her eyes and turning towards the figure lazily stretched out on the bed.

"What did you say?" Sif asked, tilting her head.

Loki sighed, and motioned towards the tea set displayed next to the bed. Giving a disbelieving scoff at the gall her betrothed possessed, Sif shook her head. He expected her to serve him? She, the Goddess of War, serving him? It was laughable.

But she didn't laugh.

"I'm waiting." Loki's words interrupted her once more. Looking back at him, a plan took form in her mind and she smiled bitterly. Taking deliberate steps, she watched as Loki's expression shifted to one of uncertainty. With raised eyebrows, the god watched as Sif began to actually prepare the tea. Waiting for the water to boil, Sif could feel her blood begin to do the same, though she gave no sign.

Just a smile.

Pouring the water over the tea infuser, the water slowly turned a dark brown color, and she stirring it to help it along. When she was sure it was ready, Sif placed the cup on a saucer and smiled back at Loki. Returning the smile, Loki nodded approvingly and sat up in anticipation.

"Looks like we'll train you yet," Loki purred, and Sif bent down in front of the man, kissing his forehead.

"Well, anything my beloved wants," a wicked smile spread across her face, "He gets!" With that, Sif flung the scalding tea into the God of Mischief's face, ignoring his screams as she ran out the doors.

_"Wench!"_

* * *

Heart pounding, Sif's head was clouded with the adrenalin rushing through her veins. Standing in front of her chamber doors, the realization of what she had done hit her, and she bent at the waist and heaved.

The guard stationed at her door took a cautious step forward. "My lady, a-are you alright?"

"Quite." Wiping her mouth with her forearm, Sif stumbled into her chambers, not bothering to shut the door after her.

_What had she done?_

Loki would be okay, physically, but she had assaulted him. He could have her beat, or locked up...

...leave her in a damp cell after her son was born and ripped away from her.

Standing in front of the vanity, Sif carefully untied the silk robe she still wore and placed a hand on her womb. She was about ten weeks along, the slight bump probably only noticeable due to her usually extremely flat and toned stomach. This whole experience- her consequences no longer affected just her. This little bump had made her a pawn, and she couldn't do anything about it.

A chill passed through her. Sif was cold. Colder than she had ever been. Wrapping the robe back around her, she searched frantically for something to warm herself.

Crawling onto her bed, she settled for the fur draped across her headboard. Lying there, it wasn't enough.

Her very soul was chilled, her body numbed.

Sif turned to the hearth. Careful to keep herself covered with the fur, she lit the fire and lay in front of it.

_Cold. Cold. Cold. Cold. Cold._

Inching closer, it still wasn't enough.

* * *

"Sif? Sif, what did you do, O Valhalla, _please,_"

Opening her eyes, Sif found herself staring into the golden face of Thor. His bright blonde hair hung down in his face, concern etched across his features. Taking a moment to find her bearings, she tore herself from the beautiful sight and looked around. Still in her room, she laid on the edge of her bed, where Thor looked on sitting from a chair. Frowning, she started to sit up before wincing in pain, a hot stinging sensation prickling her skin.

"Don't," Thor murmured, "You will recover faster if you lie still."

Cringing, Sif slowly began to remember what had happened. She had behaved so foolishly. Squeezing her eyes shut, she asked quietly, "How long was I in front of the fire?"

"Too long," came the firm reply. Was he angry with her?

"Okay..." Sif turned her head to face him. "Why are you here?"

Two fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, and he sighed. "The guard came for me after you burned my brother to deal with him."

"You're mad at me for Loki?" Narrowing her eyes, she huffed out an annoyed breath. "I won't apologize. At least not to him."

Thor raised blonde eyebrows, the rest of his stony expression unchanging, "I wouldn't expect you to."

"So...that is not the problem?"

"There is no problem."

_Stubborn._

"Fine. How did I get here?"

"After the guard fetched, we searched for you- first in the weapons vault and sparring arena, for obvious reasons. If I had just come here first..." Thor's voice trailed off, his clear blue eyes examining her red skin.

Sif simply shook her head and reached her hand out, placing it over his. He did nothing. "So I found you in front of the hearth, right up next to it, and moved you to the bed. Your skin was hot to the touch, I was so worried...The guard went to fetch Eir, and I've been here since." With a sigh, his eyes met Sif's. "She said you'll be fine as long as we keep rubbing this cream in," he motioned to the jar sitting on the nightstand. "She also said that..." Thor cast his eyes down, "your child is still in good health, by some miracle."

Tears immediately poured out of hazel eyes, and she reached out to cup Thor's unshaven face, ignoring the stinging. Gently, Thor took Sif's hand and placed it back down. Still the tears flowed.

Silence.

"Say something," she whispered.

He laughed humorlessly, "About what? You are starting a family with my brother. You have my congratulations."

"I don't want to wed Loki," Sif stated in a monotone voice. Thor scoffed. "Then why did you do it? Why did you bed him?"

"What, was I suppose to wait for you? Save myself for you, on the thin hope that one day you would see me as I see you?" Her voice was rising, and this time it was Thor's turn to tear up. "You know that's not fair," Thor retorted bitterly.

"Not fair? Years I have served you, been loyal to a fault, watched as you pined after every girl _except me._ "

Shaking his head, blonde locks swishing from side to side, Thor pressed his lips into a hard line. "I have always admired you. Your fierceness, your heart, your loyalty- but I never knew you felt this way." Regret marked his chiseled features.

"Why? Because I did not throw myself at you, like those other...other _concubines_? Because I did not give you endless praise?" She could tell she was striking a chord now, "Because you are too obtuse to recognize the feelings of oth-"

"-That's enough."

"Because you command it? Because everything else comes and goes as you please?" She took in a hitched breath, realizing she was going too far, "Because now you can't have me as I..._belong_," she cringed, "to another?"

Sif regretted the words as soon as they passed her lips. Staring straight ahead and willing the tears to not flow, she waited for Thor's response. Instead, all she got was an injured air.

Unable to continue in silence, Sif sighed. "I am having a son."

Turning her head back to face the thunderer, she saw he wore a weathered expression.

"What will you name him?"

"Does it matter? All he will be is another pawn for Loki's never ending quest for the throne."

Suddenly sitting upright, Thor's feature changed to incredulous fury. "You mean to tell me...you and Loki..."

"...Do not love each other," Sif finished. "The child will be part Aesir, suitable to rule. As you have no heirs, this will apparently put Loki and I on the throne. I do not want it, I was such a fool..."

Reaching forward, Thor intertwined his fingers with Sif's, stroking her hand with his thumb in a reassuring manner. Startled at this gesture, Sif raised her eyebrow inquisitively. Thor shrugged, "I would never lay a hand on you if you were truly with another." _I am, Thor. I'm betrothed. Not everything is yours for the taking._ Squeezing her eyes shut, Sif slowly removed her hand from his grasp. Feeling as though her heart was shattering, Sif struggled to sit up and face Thor. Wincing as she did so, she put on a brave face.

As always.

"I _will_ marry Loki. It is the honorable thing for us both, and if I don't, I will surely be exiled from Asgard as a whore."

Desperation written across his features, Thor leaned forward, "I will marry you." Sif's body went numb at the proposal, knowing she could not accept. Determined, Thor continued, "I will claim the child as mine, it would b-"

"It would be impossible," Sif whispered. "The child is half Jotun, and neither of possess the magic to conceal his heritage. This is my only option."

Thor's jaw hung open, wordlessly saying all he needed to. Sif chewed the inside of her cheek before taking a deep breath, "I don't think you should be here when my betrothed comes. I do not want to further drive a wedge between you."

Stunned by Sif's sudden coldness, Thor stood up. But before turning away, he gently tucked a wisp of her behind Sif's ear. "He does not love you...I do."

"You are too late."

Remaining still as a statue, Sif wore her cool demeanor until she was sure she was alone.

When she was, she wept.


	3. vulnerable

Sif awoke with red and swollen eyes, groggily trying to focus her vision on what was before her. The warm scent of cinnamon greeted her, and she knew she was still in her own bed, but not alone. Wiping the sleep out of her eyes, Sif propped herself up on her elbows. In front of her was Loki, with his back to her, standing and preparing something on her vanity. A sick feeling settled in her gut as she remembered the events of the morning before. It was an unfamiliar feeling; Never had she been particularly afraid of Loki, but now carrying his child, she was bound to him, unable to act on every whim that came to her for fear of the consequences.

In the back of her mind was always a desire for a small family. However, given her devotion as a warrior to the Realm, it was never something she dreamed was actually feasible. And it was certainly never something she dreamed would happen with Loki, a now-stranger in front of her.

Once, a lifetime ago, Sif had known Loki. Spent her days with him, told him the innermost thinkings of her mind, and he did the same. He had even grown to love her. But as her dream of fighting and defending grew, so did the amount of time she spent with Thor, and the time passed with Loki was pushed to the back of her memories. She was not there to see the lanky teen with mischief in his eyes grow into a bitter, resentful man with edges she could cut herself on. The god standing before her was not one she knew, but a shell.

Catching Sif's reflection in the mirror before him, he knew she was awake, but gave no other signs. Silently, he continued to measure and mix whatever was before him. Sif took the opportunity to examine her betrothed. Black hair was neatly combed to the nape of his neck, flicking up slightly at the ends, although it was obvious efforts were made to prevent the flick. A cream tunic draped over his lean torso, and his signature shade of green colored his pants. He was strikingly handsome, and she wouldn't deny she was attracted to him- physically.

Finally, he was done mixing, and turned around with a glass jar filled with a pink cream. Sif gave a light gasp as she remember the salve's use- her skin. Looking down, most of the red had disappeared, her skin only remaining slightly tender. The injury was not bad to begin with. Glancing up at Loki's unmarred face, Sif was relieved to see she had done no harm with her tea stunt. The dark shadows in his eyes, however, told her the incident was not nearly forgotten. Dread filled her as he climbed onto the bed beside her uninvited with the salve, expression unreadable.

"Untie the robe."

Raising an eyebrow, Sif turned her face to his, only to see him wearing the same stern expression as she.

"Why would I do that?"

Wordlessly, Loki simply nodded suggestively to the salve in his hands. With a defeated sigh Sif swung her legs over the side of the bed just as he, before undoing the knots that held together her thin silk garment. Letting it fall to the bed around her, Sif was bare naked, shamelessly. Dipping two long fingers in the salve, Loki began to rub the cold salve into her skin, perhaps a little more rough than necessary. As he massaged it in, Sif wrinkled her nose at the smell. It was flowery.

"Lavender?"

"Lavender oil, yes." The reply came softer than expected, though his roughness with her body told her he felt otherwise. Closing her eyes, Sif simply stilled and let him treat her. His cold hands felt good on her skin.

After he was all done, Sif quickly reached for her robe, only to have a Loki's long hands wrap around her wrist. "No."

Fire shone in her eyes as she turned back to look at him. Just like that, his mood pulled a switch, and the cold Loki was replaced with one of a calculating demeanor. Smiling, with a flick of his wrist, there was a flash of green and the robe was gone.

"I like you like this."

Sif raised her eyebrows in surprise, feeling a heat rising to her cheeks. Bravely, Sif quipped back, "You like me naked?"

"Nay." With a smirk on his face, Loki turned her back around, leaning into her back with one arm on her pregnant belly.

_"Vulnerable."_

The words sent an almost tangible chill down her spine, and she realized the arm around her was not endearing at all- it was a possessive gesture. Biting the inside of her cheek, Sif tensed her muscles.

"You _think_ me vulnerable, but I'll have you know I'm just as dangerous in this state as I am with sword and shield in hand."

With simply a dark chuckle in reply, Loki rested his head on Sif's shoulder, delicately sinking his teeth into her flesh and leaving pink marks behind.

_Possessive._

Curling up her lip in defiance, Sif shrugged Loki's head from her shoulder and threw his arm off of her. As she was reaching forward for her clothing, a flash of green burst in front of her and threw her on her back onto the bed.

"Coward," she spat, "Always using sorcery to cover your weakness and failure as a man-"

_WHACK!_

The back of Loki's hand made contact with Sif's face, effectively whipping her head to the side and giving Loki time to straddle her, confining each of her wrists with his cold grip. Shaking with rage, he leaned close until their noses practically touched.

"I am your Prince, I am the father of the child in your belly, and you will _respect_ me." Snarling, Sif laid still underneath him.

"Than you will show me that same respect, as I am a Lady, and more importantly, a warrior capable of snapping your body in two."

At that, Loki gave a mocking laugh. "And what would happen if I don't? You will attempt to run, hide from me? Keep the Allfather away from his grandchild?"

With a cunning smile to rival Loki's, Sif calmly retorted "I do not think he would hunt me down as an animal, given that I have dedicated my life to defending him more fiercely than any of his other soldiers. Besides," her hazel eyes swam with rage and fire, "As you are not really Odin's child, my son will neither belong to him."

"But it does not matter, because what choice does he have? He is getting old, and soon he will require someone to tend the throne for him. Will it really matter, then, that I am adopted, if I can provide a healthy Aesir baby to follow my reign?" Loki's smile was wild and frankly, frightening, but Sif knew just how to work him.

"What other choice? Well," Sif licked her lips, "I could always marry your brother." Loki's eyebrows shot up with disbelief, but he let her continue. "He asked for my hand yesterday. I declined, but given the choice, who do you think Odin would choose to father my son? You, or the golden-son Thor?" Shaking his head wildly, Loki released Sif's wrist and instead wrapped around her throat, but Sif had the advantage, knowing that he would never fatally wound her, for the baby's sake. "And Thor would raise your child and love him and never would he know of the shameful union from which he came."

Desperation writ across Loki's features, upper lip twitching and frantic green eyes searching her face for signs of weakness. Finding none, he gave an loud grunt and released his hold on her neck, sliding off the bed and throwing Sif's garments in her direction. Clearly deep in thought, he ran his long sinewy fingers through his hair, mussing up the hold the product had on it, instead giving it a soft wave. Quickly Sif redonned her clothes while Loki paced. Shoving past him, Sif ignored the white hot glare shot her way as she made way to prepare herself a cup of tea, seemingly unphased by the altercation.

"You know you are not supposed to have tea while with child."

Frowning, Sif considered. "It is only chamomile. It contains no caffeine."

He huffed an annoyed breath, "I don't care. I will not risk it."

Setting the pot down, Sif slid into the large maroon chair next to her and laid her forehead in her hands. "Forgive me if I am not an expert, I have never dealt with something of his nature," she snapped. Loki sat on the edge of the bed and bore his eyes into Sif's, and for a moment, strangely, emotions calmed. The gravity of their situation weighed on the couple. Each knew what was going through the others mind - despite their arguing, their combative natures, they had produced another living thing. A being to care for, something neither was familiar with. For several moments they just sat, before Sif could stand no more and padded her way to sit beside Loki. Silently, she stared at her hands in her lap.

"I will give you the respect you desire, Lady. If it means the different between civility and chaos between us. But I will not stand for another one of yesterday mornings' stunts. If we are to do this, I will not stand to be humiliated in front of the guards or anyone else."

Sif nodded with compliance, "And you are to understand that even though I bear your son, even if we wed, I will not be your possession. I have earned my status, as you have yours." Loki sat in quiet agreement, leaving the air after feeling more resolved.

Happy that they had reached in agreement, Sif went about continuing her morning routine, as did Loki. Both did so in comfortable silence. True, he was not the object of her love, not Thor, but all realistic hopes of a future with him had long since faded.

As a last gesture, Sif handed Loki his dagger just as he stepping out the door. He gave her a questioning glance, and Sif shrugged her shoulder. "I swiped it from your waistband earlier." Giving half a smile and a short bow with his head before stepping out, Sif could tell he was in better humour than before.

There might be hope after all.

* * *

Thank you everyone for the reads and reviews! It means so much to know my work is being enjoyed :)


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